The Beautiful Unfolding
by thosedarndursleys
Summary: After thirteen months in Azkaban, Sirius Black manages to escape. What happens next brings a collide of both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. AU. Muggle!Remus. Rated T for some language, just to be safe.


**A/N:** This story's been floating around my mind for a while now, so I've decided to finally give it some life. It's  very AU—Remus is a muggle. He never went to Hogwarts, never met the marauders, and isn't a werewolf. The temporal setting for this story is also different from canon, in order to bring up to today's Muggle technology. I apologize if this upsets anyone. Please feel free to go back and choose another story from the list if it does. I won't be offended in the least :)

* * *

The Beautiful Unfolding

 _But life inevitably throws us curve balls, unexpected circumstances that remind us to expect the unexpected. I've come to understand these curve balls are the beautiful unfolding of both karma and current._

 _Carre Otis_

Sirius Black's lip curled as yet another dementor glided across the floor. He'd been crouched in the same position for hours, his animagus form disguising him from the torture that stalked the corridor. Gone was the sorrow that had encompassed him for the past year of his life. Gone was the helplessness that had become his new default. His transformed mind blocked out the effects of the sub-humans, leaving him with disgust and anger, but no more submission.

He waited as the dementor passed in one more circuit before making his move. He loped toward the far wall with as much speed as his feet could muster. He felt his fur, matted with sweat and grime, succumb to the pressure of the air as his legs propelled him forward. At the last second, his front feet pushed off of the stone, his back paws following an instant later. He launched at the barred window, praying his last few months of loosening bolts and bars hadn't been in vain.

Sirius kept his eyes open for the whole ordeal. He wasn't willing to miss a second.

When his feet made contact, he had to hold back a celebratory yelp as the bars began to give. With an echoed _crash_ , they fell against the outside wall and clunked to the water beneath. Sirius, in much the same fashion, drew closer to the murky depths below. The impact felt like hitting concrete. He willed what was left of his core magic to mend his fractured bones.

Sirius Black allowed the current to lift him to the surface before he began to swim, begging his indignant resolve to push himself toward the shore.

— — — — —

Kingsley Shacklebolt flinched as a roar echoed off the corridor walls. He had been walking across the main floor of the Auror Precinct when it happened and had the pleasure of passing by the threshold to Moody's office when the man had lost it.

" _WHAT?_ " Kinglsey dropped his stack of files as he backed away from the noise. "You're telling me, that with three thousand mutants in that damn _hellhole_ —mutants whose sole purpose in life is to _keep him in line_ —he managed to bloody _escape_?" Moody's face was a deep purple, his magical eye completely still as it worked to dismantle the poor messenger in front of him.

"W-we don't know how it happened, Sir," the intern stuttered. "With all of the precautions that have been implemented—"

"Well apparently your damn _precautions_ weren't enough, now were they?" Moody was on his feet, towering over the smaller man. "We've had Black for thirteen months. _Thirteen!_ How in the _hell_ did he manage to cheat a system that has been indestructible for the past nine centuries?"

"I-I don't know, Sir—"

"Well go and find me someone who does," Moody spat. "I'm going out there to catch this bastard, and when I land his ass back in Azkaban, he is going to _stay there_. Do you understand?"

The intern choked out a _yes sir_ before rushing from the room, whether to escape Moody's wrath or to find his answer, Kingsley was unsure.

As Moody crashed into his chair and let out a string of swears, Kingsley began to pick up his scattered files, pointedly ignoring the office beside him. Just as he was about to finish making his way down the hall, the harsh voice called out once more.

"You—Shacklescrew!"

Kingsley's jaw clenched and he turned to face the irate man.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Get your affairs in order." Moody made eye contact for just a moment before opening his desk drawer and digging through it. "We leave in an hour."

The younger man's brow creased. "Sir?"

"You heard me right," Alastor's gruff voice was competing with his slamming drawers and cupboards. "We've got a criminal to catch."

— — — — —

Mid-day traffic was speeding by in full force as Remus put his car in park. He fished some coins out of his drink holder and slipped two of them into the meter before making his way down the street. He could practically hear the tea shop across the road calling his name, but forced his need for caffeine to the back of his mind. Looking down at the bank check in his hand, Remus sighed and pushed open the nearest door.

A bell on the upper corner of the door jamb _dinged_ as he crossed the threshold. An older woman was sitting at a desk in the corner of the small office, her lips pursing as her eyes scanned a thick document.

Upon hearing the bell, she looked up from the tiny print. She removed her glasses and, while she didn't smile, she nodded in welcome.

"Remus," she greeted, her Scottish lilt crossing the space without issue.

"Minerva," Remus smiled. "I've got last month's rent." He passed her the small form before standing back to allow her to examine it. "Thank you for the extension—I'm finally settled into the new job, and it appears to be a good fit."

The older woman narrowed her gaze and raised her brow. "I can't offer you another one, Remus. This past fortnight, I've been spread thin as it is."

"I understand," Remus said quickly. "It won't be necessary."

"I hope not," Minerva said, her voice softening. "You're a good tenant, Remus."

Remus smiled and nodded before rubbing the back of his neck. "You're not so bad, yourself, Mrs. McGonagall."

— — — — —

The torrent of wind that tossed the waves kept its integrity as Sirius clambered out of the water. Lifting his scrawny legs out from under him, it pulled the animagus back just to drop him once more. His paws were covered in soppy sand by the time he managed to dig his face from the ground.

He let out an angry huff and felt a growl begin in the back of his throat. The unfathomable torture of the past months, the injustice of it all, hit him full force and he turned to take it out on a bird who swooped by. He snapped at its wing, catching a feather in his jaw but nothing more. In his mind, Sirius huffed once again.

He was tired of getting nothing.

James and Lily had been _taken_. Harry had been _taken_. Peter had _betrayed_ them. Sirius had lost the four people in his life who meant anything to him, and what did he get in return? The inside of a cell door.

 _Worse_ than nothing.

Another deep growl emitted from his throat and Sirius ached to transform to his human self. His better sense won out, however, and he began prompting his stunted legs toward the West. His face was known by nearly every Wizard in Europe; he'd be stupid to blow his cover so close to Azkaban. He'd best wait, he decided, and channeled his buried anger to propel himself that much farther from the water.

— — — — —

Kingsley had to hide a smirk as Moody let out another string of curses.

"Bloody _hell_ ," he barked afterward, wordlessly drying his foot with a flick of his wand. They had apparated to every shoreline around Azkaban's borders, ending with their current location as the final option. There was a significant aura of magic in the air, one with recklessness so evident that Kingsley was sure it had been suppressed for much too long. It nearly choked him, and he had to collect himself for a moment before he could speak.

"Well, he's obviously been here. Which way shall we start?"

Moody grumbled as his magical eye surveyed the area. "The son of a bitch doesn't even have a wand. There's no way he would have been able to cover his tracks."

Kingsley's brow furrowed as he considered this. Moody was right. There wasn't a human footprint in sight—a few pelican tracks and paw prints, but nothing even remotely helpful.

"We'll just have to follow the magical signature, then. It'll run out eventually, but at least it'll get us started."

Moody muttered something about _newfangled rookie techniques_ but held out an arm to allow Kingsley to lead the way. The younger man pulled out his wand and gave it a wave before following the rippled mist the appeared before them. He held back another chuckle at the thought that Moody probably wasn't used to being the follower of the group.

Maybe this assignment would be more entertaining that he'd originally thought.

— — — — —

Remus Lupin awoke suddenly, propping himself on an elbow and training his ears on the silence around him. He could hear the crashing waves of the sea around him; he could hear the toads hollering in the distance, but he couldn't discern the noise that had pulled him from his sleep.

He sat up fully and rubbed his eyes before reaching for his phone. The lock screen's backlight assaulted his vision. _2:27_. Remus groaned and fell back to his pillow. Just as he allowed his eyes to drift closed once more, he heard another sound.

It was high-pitched, inhuman, and undeniably in pain.

Remus jumped out of bed, throwing on a dressing gown on his way toward the stairs. He shoved his bare feet into sneakers before entering the cool night.

The darkness around him was all-encompassing. With the only near-by town over twenty minutes away, streetlights were a thing of myth. Remus sighed as he dug his phone out of his pocket and directed its light toward the trees around him. His ears strained for the noise, and after a moment of silence, he was rewarded for his patience.

He began working his way down the driveway, toward the road that ran parallel to his front yard. Upon reaching the shoulder, he used the phone's dim glow to survey the area. It didn't take long to find the source of the noise.

There, in the middle of the road, a mound of dark fur lay completely still. There was no sign of an offending vehicle, but as Remus drew closer, he could see the tell-tale signs of blood-matted fur along the beast's middle. He lingered just long enough to see the faint rise and fall of its chest before rushing back to the house for a blanket and stronger light.

He returned a moment later to the same scene, using his light to examine the heap before coming to a conclusion. It was a dog, a stray, that had obviously been hit by a negligent driver. By the looks of it, the mutt had taken quite the hit. Remus took a steadying breath before steeling himself and rolling the beast onto the blanket. After grasping two corners in a tight hold, he began to drag him back to the house.

The next few hours were spent catering to the limp form. Remus considered taking him into town in search of a vet, but the constant chirp of crickets outside the window reminded him just how futile that would be. He settled the beast onto his mattress, keeping a bowl of water near-by, as well as bandaging the punctured flesh as best he could.

It was nearly six in the morning when the dog began to stir. Remus jerked awake at the sound of a low growl emitting from his throat. He moved his chair back a good metre before sitting down once more. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched the beast wake.

Another ten minutes passed before the dog lifted his head. When he did, a quiet whine escaped from his chest, causing Remus to stand slowly to his feet. The action was quickly rescinded when a territorial bark was aimed his way.

"It's ok, boy," he cooed as well as he knew how. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Another growl left the dog's throat, but stopped mid-way. His matted, furry head cocked to the side, and he studied Remus with wary eyes. After a moment, he huffed and rested his head on his paws once more.

Remus sighed with relief. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

If only he knew.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! If you have a spare moment, please take a minute to leave a review or send me a PM. I love any and all feedback.

 **A/N #2:** On a more official note, this story was written for Round 13 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm the captain of the Caerphilly Catapults, and the final word count for this story is 2,017.


End file.
